Behave yourself, l'amour
by Chibi America
Summary: Francis knew that Arthur was grumpy. Everyone knew that. But today the Englishman just isn't feeling like being cooperative and finds himself in a situation that makes him regret it. *Contains consensual spanking of a man*


**It's been a while since I've updated a fanfiction, or posted a new one. So without further ado, I present to you all this silly drabble I typed up.**

**It's a oneshot for now, but I may make it have future chapters if people like it enough.**

**WARNING: As described in the summary, this piece of _fiction _contains the consensual corporal punishment of a man, in a none too sexual situation. **

*******Chibi America*******

* * *

Arthur grumbled as he woke up that morning. His curtains were open and he put a hand up, shielding his eyes from the cursed bright light.

"God damn, sun, turn the hell off," He mumbled grouchily to himself as he made a move to shift out of bed.

Walking over to the window, he hastily drew the curtains closed with an aggravated tug. He nearly ripped them off in his anger.

He then proceeded to hardly bother getting dressed presentably; wearing the laziest clothing he had worn in a while. A Harry Potter themed T-Shirt (he had a past obsession with it, okay?) and denim trousers. Not his usual getup but it worked.

Whilst he wallowed in his own unhappiness, he had completely forgotten that Francis had phoned him the night before and said he would be coming over. If Arthur had any recollection, he would have dressed to impress in order to outdo his snide, and admittedly, fashionable acquaintance.

Obviously―this would make to be a horrible day from the get-go.

And Arthur had realised himself that he was in a beautiful mood when he tripped coming out of the bedroom, cursing about it all the way to the kitchen. While eating breakfast, he would pick up his fork and stuff it into his mouth with a new complaint each time going.

Unfortunately, he finished his food angrily and rested his head on his table top. Though he only got peace for a moment's time before a familiar buzz resounded throughout his home.

The doorbell rung. And in retaliation Arthur called out, "Who the fuck is it? This better be important!"

He set his plate in the sink and pattered to the door, swinging it open with a glare on his face. _What awaited him, you ask?_

Why, only that bloody frog that sedated him so.

The Frenchman was then greeted by a face full of mahogany, as Arthur had the audacity to slam the door back as soon as he caught eye of him.

"How rude, I only dropped by to see a certain grumpy Brit, but I suppose you aren't having it, are you?" Francis shouted from outside, knowing full and well that the other man could hear him perfectly.

"The door's unlocked, idiot." _Now he remembered._

It was the best response Francis was going to get.

So, Francis let himself in; knowing full and well that he wasn't going to get a "hello", a "nice to see you", or well... much of anything. Just a slammed door. What a wonderful greeting! _  
_

He was simply _ecstatic_.

"Why are you acting like a bear with a sore head?"

"None of your concern, froggy. Now leave me be."

If Arthur were to be truthful with himself, he had no damned idea why he was acting so hot headed. It just seemed to be one of those days where he felt like being a royal dick, and there wasn't going to be any attempts to stop himself.

Therefore, the Englishman would gracefully continue his rampage of negativity. Francis was quick to realise this for himself and decided to take the smart route. He just followed behind and played nice.

"Why did you want to come see me, anyway? Isn't there some other perverted pastime you rather take part in?"

The other sighed, "_Non. _Is it a bad thing to want to visit an old friend?"

Arthur only scoffed. "Old friend? I'd sooner gauge out my own eyeballs than be friends with you. Stupid frog." _Really. How silly of Francis to think he was his friend._

"Would you give me just a little respect and stop calling me that?"

He was ignored completely as Arthur walked into his bedroom and stood in front of the mirror. He picked up his brush and tried to tame his unconcealable mop of hair. It didn't seem to do any good, and he merely ended up tossing the object across the floor in agitation.

Francis was beginning to get annoyed, and the look on his face proved it so. "Are you just going to ignore me the entire time I'm here?"

"Oh, no, why would I ever be given the pleasure to do so?" Arthur sat down on the end of his bed, crossing one leg over the other with this vile smirk on his face.

"God, Angleterre. When did you get so impolite?"

"When you graced my presence with your smelly French voice," Arthur was snide, "why bother asking such an obvious question?"

Francis stood there in awe for a moment or two, not believing what he was hearing. Sure, he would expect it if they were arguing...but this, this was just blatant disrespect with no reasoning.

"Arthur, that was nasty."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was I supposed to be nice?" He stated with such sarcasm in his voice even a fool would know he was joking.

"Have I hurt the frog's feelings?"

_Yes. He had hurt the "frog's" feelings. _"I didn't come here to be ridiculed. I thought we would have a decent afternoon."

"Well, think again. Because I never wanted you to come here, and I really don't want to hear you either," He picked up his mobile and began to mindlessly flick the screen, "so please, do me a favour and shut the hell up."

_That was it. _Feeling completely dismissed, he felt the need to put an end to the unappealing attitude Arthur had woken up with this morning. Francis found himself walking over to the brush the other had so conveniently tossed around, taking a seat on the bed as well.

"I'm not listening to you sit there and insult me." He didn't have much patience, and all that he had saved up was spent. He merely pointed to the ground in front of him.

"What?" Arthur wasn't getting it.

"Come here, Arthur. You know what to do."

That sentence―it had his heart skipping a beat with realisation. The man couldn't be serious. He wasn't a kid anymore.

"The hell? No, you bloody pervert!"

The Frenchman tapped his foot, just sitting there patiently. Oh, he would wait. But every moment that Arthur didn't start moving his feet would only make the inevitable worse.

Bashfully, Arthur stood up from where he was sitting and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "I am a grown man. There is no way I would comply to such a thing during the present day and age."

Yes, Francis had spanked him in the past. But that had to of been at least 5-6 human ages ago. He was a man now.

"Oh, are you? What has come out of your mouth for the past fifteen minutes was so childish I could hardly tell," Francis responded quickly, "now, if you are not standing before me by the time I count to five, you'll find you've made your situation worse on yourself."

Arthur had to think about what to do, keeping his feet glued to the carpeting.

"_Un_, _deux_."

Not a move was made.

"_Trois_," Francis counted slower, raising an eyebrow when the Briton didn't come forward by then.

"_Quatre_―Arthur, are you sure you don't want to listen?"

With a huff, the man shuffled over. No, he was sure it wouldn't have been bright to let Francis get to five. Though that didn't stop him from pleading. "I'm sorry, Francis. Please..."

"You can apologise after, when I know you mean it." He was paying no head to the other's plea for instant forgiveness. He took Arthur's upper arm and flipped him over his lap.

Of course, Arthur squirmed over the other blond's knees, trying and failing to get into a comfortable position. And really, how could someone get comfortable for a spanking? He found himself keeping glance on the brush in Francis' hand, and when the man set it down on the nightstand, he prayed it wouldn't be used.

Francis was kind enough to allow him to wiggle for a while before he placed his hand on the small of Arthur's back, bringing his free hand down to make sharp contact with the backside before him.

As a warm-up, he doled out around ten smacks to Arthur's bottom. It had the Briton feeling uncomfortable, but he obviously wasn't in any sort of real pain.

"We'll have to remove these." He stated as he unbuckled Arthur's belt and slipped his trousers down to his knees. He had a bit of trouble with it, however, with the man squirming all over like he was.

"And, Arthur, you need to stay still."

Francis proceeded to pick up the hair brush he had put aside, wielding the implement to be used immediately. He repositioned Arthur over his lap and brought the wooden backed hair care utensil down to meet with the boxer-clad bum.

Arthur was quick to notice that his brush stung profusely compared to Francis' hand, the pain of the strike surprising him a tad. When a rain of swats fell down on his posterior he had trouble holding his breath to keep himself from making a reaction.

It was only his luck when Francis stopped suddenly, reaching down to take the elastic of his boxers and begin removing them. Arthur shot his hand back to cover his rear, keeping the undergarments in place.

"No, Francis! Please don't!" It came out as a whine, and the man was ashamed of himself for making such a pitiful noise.

He was then met with an upsetting reply as Francis took Arthur's hands into his grip, pinning them down where his palm had been rested on his back.

"_Non_. I'll have none of that, you know better than to interfere."

Francis, of course, finished what he was doing and tugged his boxers down to join Arthur's trousers. The air that Arthur now felt on his bum had him lying practically still, awaiting for the main bit of the punishment.

Without further ado, A swish was heard before a "crack!" resounded throughout the room. Francis was being harder on the island nation, and made sure to cover the entirety of Arthur's bottom in hopes that he wouldn't greet him so rudely next time.

Personally, Arthur felt the Frenchman had no mercy on his poor bum with this new regime. Strike after strike of that stupid hair brush reigned down upon him and he couldn't stop a single tear that streamed down his face. He ended up sobbing and kicking his legs as the minutes ticked past, having admitted defeat through eyes that were so built up with tears the whole room looked blurry.

"I'm sorry, Francis! Stop!" He shouted out incoherently. Though he found that Francis wasn't going to listen to his exclamation, wanting to make sure that Arthur was thoroughly dealt with.

It wasn't till Francis felt that Arthur was remorseful that he set the brush back down on the nightstand. He was looking at the reddened bum of a repented Englishman.

Francis lifted Arthur up from his lap, adjusting the man's pants and trousers whilst Arthur himself blushed at such childish treatment. Childish or not, it appeared he wouldn't think twice to take out the rest of his woes on the elder's nice shirt. How unfortunate it was to be damp in the front from tears.

"Now," Francis rubbed Arthur's back comfortingly as he began, "when I come to see you―and I'm being polite―are you going to be so nasty to me, _mon __Chéri_?"

"...No, uh...I'm sorry, Francis. I just..." What was his just? He hadn't the slightest clue what the source of his negative attitude was.

And in all honesty of the moment, Arthur really wanted attention and didn't much care. He wrapped his arms around Francis and simply sat on his lap and sniffled. "That hurt, you arse."

"If it hadn't, it wouldn't have worked." The Frenchman couldn't hold down a laugh at the pitiful sentence.

"Don't laugh at me, damn you!"

Francis could only sigh at this. He gently patted the nation's back and tried to get him mellowed down, as after all, he had wanted to have a good day with him.

"It's alright, _l'amour_. Why don't we do something nice? We could talk about ideas over wine, hmm?"

Arthur could comply with that idea. "I have some decent ones here," He mentioned, recalling the wine bottles he had put up in his cabinet.

"It's a plan, then." Francis helped Arthur off his lap, pretending to not notice the other man discretely rubbing his bottom.

He supposed some people just never changed.


End file.
